


I'm in love with a fairytale

by JuliaBaggins



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eurovision Song Contest - Freeform, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBaggins/pseuds/JuliaBaggins
Summary: When Enjolras started an internship at a newspaper, he actually hadn't planned to stop his political research for a story about the Eurovision Song Contest. But maybe, with a good looking singer and an intelligent song representing their country, this isn't going to be too bad after all...





	I'm in love with a fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick thing I wrote while waiting for the ESC to start. Had to stop now as it's getting serious in Kiev :D
> 
> Might continue this if people would be interested...

“You’re kidding me!”, Courfeyrac looked at Enjolras with wide eyes while his voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

Enjolras sighed while he shook his head.

“So, you out of all people are actually send to the Eurovision Song Contest?”, Combeferre asked laughing.

“This is not funny”, Enjolras grumbled.

“No, it very much isn’t funny, this is freaking awesome!”, Courfeyrac said.

Enjolras sat down at their sofa and looked from one of his two best friends to the other.

“I want to be a serious political journalist, this is not what I took this internship for!”

“No it isn’t, and we know this, but see it that way – you’re still going to change the world, and having a little bit of fun at the biggest music party in Europe before surely won’t hurt”, Combeferre reasoned with him. 

Enjolras sighed again. He knew that he didn’t really have a chance, not when his boss wanted to send him to the ESC, and not when both his best friends already were more than excited about him going there. And he had already watched the ESC once or twice, actually had a fun time - he just didn’t feel the need to write about it, or to go there, costing the little newspaper he worked for money they rarely had. But when Courfeyrac started to talk about the singer who would represent their country this year, excitement sparkling in his eyes, he knew that he would go there. And if it was just so he could give his friends all the behind the scenes information he sure knew they would love.

 

Two days later, Enjolras had done a lot of research on their singer at the ESC, a young man called Grantaire, and he had to admit that he really liked his song. It was different than most of the others, neither a ballad nor a party hit but rather a folk song – just him and his guitar, a gentle voice, saying oh so much. Enjolras knew how the songs at the ESC weren’t allowed to be politic but this was just at the edge of it, not really a political statement but close to it. He was singing about how even in times as difficult as the current ones you shouldn’t stop fighting for one another, and Enjolras liked that. As well as the other songs he had seen on Grantaire’s YouTube channel, him covering older songs by artists Enjolras liked or singing others he had written himself.

Yes, maybe by now, Enjolras was looking forward a bit to going to the Eurovision Song Contest, or at least he didn’t mind it that much anymore. And the interview with Grantaire that he would have a day before the big final might actually be interesting. The whole time he was on the plane, Enjolras went through his notebook (dark brown leather, worn out, a birthday gift by Joly – he loved it), looking at the questions he had prepared to ask Grantaire. 

 

“Hey, so sorry that I’m late!”

Grantaire rushed into the room where Enjolras had been waiting for some time now. He wore a rushed smile on his lips and a dark green hoodie, getting down in the chair opposite Enjolras’ while he started talking again.

“I had this other interview, and it actually was scheduled to end like an hour ago so I could also grab some dinner, but she was asking such interesting questions and I didn’t want to interrupt a nice interview, you know?”

He smiled at Enjolras, the left corner of his mouth a little higher than the right, and Enjolras wondered if it had been that warm in the room that whole time. Focus. He needed to focus.

“Did you say you weren’t able to eat dinner yet?”, Enjolras asked, casting his eyes away from Grantaire’s lips and rather focusing on his eyes. Not that their deep deep green would be any less distracting.

“Yeah, not really – did you? No? You don’t mind eating something while we do this interview, do you?”

Enjolras shook his head, unable to resist Grantaire’s smile.

 

They had talked a bit about how Grantaire started singing, how he tended the gardens of neighbors and washed cars to get the money to buy his first guitar as a child, while leaving the building, and now they were on the street. Shortly after they were outside, Enjolras noticed that he had forgotten his jacket – he blamed this unexplainable warmth inside for that. And the missing jacket wouldn’t have been that bad, it was not really cold, but just when Grantaire mentioned an aunt that had taught him his first songs on the guitar, it started raining. _A lot._

After just a minute, Enjolras felt his shirt clinging to his body, Grantaire’s dark curls were soaking wet, and he motioned towards a door right next to them.

“Should we just get inside there?”, Grantaire asked, and the thunder they heard in the distance was enough of an answer that Enjolras hurried into the restaurant at his heels.

 

“Are we doing the official interview part now?”, Grantaire asked over the table.

Enjolras swallowed while his fingers held his notebook in a death grip. Grantaire was close, very much so – the little restaurant they had escaped into was a cozy Italian place and the only table left free was one in a far corner, quite private, two chairs barely separated by a small table that held nothing but a candle so far. This clearly was supposed to be romantic, and just this thought caused Enjolras’ heart to beat faster. He was aware that this wasn’t professional behavior, but when Grantaire smiled in his direction once again, the candlelight sparkling in the dark green of his eyes, he also realized that he didn’t care right now…

**Author's Note:**

> Title from my all time fave ESC song, "Fairytale"


End file.
